He Was Making You Blush
by Fuzzy Blue Owl
Summary: He could be Crowley's cousin, their features are so similar. None of this, specifically, is making Aziraphale uncomfortable. It's when the server subtly looks Aziraphale up and down as he greets them, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly, smiling charmingly... and Aziraphale's corporation ...responds.


Warnings: sexual content. what it says on the tin.

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There is a new server at the Ritz, and Aziraphale is very uncomfortable about it.

It's not _just_ that there's a new server, that happens often. It's just that this server is almost unbearably attractive.

This is not unusual, either, the Ritz tends to hire young, attractive people with impeccable manners.

He's tall, quite slim, with very dark hair, sharp cheekbones and a pointed, chiseled jaw. He could be Crowley's cousin, their features are so similar.

None of this, specifically, is making Aziraphale uncomfortable.

It's when the server subtly looks Aziraphale up and down as he greets them, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly, smiling charmingly... and Aziraphale's corporation _responds_.

Aziraphale feels his chest tighten, his breath shorten, and his face heat up.

Crowley notices the sever looking at Aziraphale and he barely keeps himself from lowering his glasses and looking the server in the eyes.

Aziraphale shifts on his chair, his body uncomfortably close to arousal. He's relieved when the server leaves to get their wine.

Crowley reaches over and rests his hand on Aziraphale's arm possessively as he returns and uncorks the bottle.

"What can I get for you to start, gentlemen?" The server purrs, standing just a little too close, glancing down at Aziraphale as he pours their wine. He sees Crowley's hand resting on Aziraphale's arm and it doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest. His eyes slide back to Aziraphale, waiting for him to answer.

Crowley orders for them both, requesting for the duck special as their appetizer. The server doesn't look at him.

"Lovely," the server says, smiling again at Aziraphale, his smile hinting that he's not talking about the duck.

Aziraphale can feel his face heating, knowing he was flushing under the attention, his control over his responses faltering.

Crowley suppresses a scowl as the server saunters away.

Aziraphale doesn't understand his corporation's reactions. He's never met a human who caused him to simply _melt_ like this, to become instantly flustered just by their presence and their movements.

Then he sees the way the server walks, and he quickly figures it out.

The duck comes, and it's delicious, and Aziraphale is sufficiently distracted enough that his face turns back to its normal colour.

Crowley orders again for their mains, a steak (bloody, obviously) for himself and a scallop with pasta dish for Aziraphale that he's been meaning to try. The server still hasn't really looked at Crowley, who starts grinding his teeth whenever he walks anywhere near their table.

When the server brings their mains, he brushes his hand onto Aziraphale's upper arm to get his attention. Aziraphale notices that he has cuffed his sleeves to the elbow and his sinewy forearms are disturbingly attractive as well.

"Would you like me to pour you more wine, sir?"

One of the muscles in Crowley's jaw is twitching.

Aziraphale blushes again and mutters, "No, thank you, I'm fine."

Crowley waits until the server walks away, silently counts to a hundred, and then tops off Aziraphale's glass himself. Aziraphale flushes again, looking at Crowley, wishing he could see the demon's eyes. Crowley is starting to emanate tension, and Aziraphale's body responding to _that_, too.

Crowley picks at his steak, distracted, his unseen, unblinking eyes following the server as he moves through the dining room, attending to other tables. When Aziraphale's plate is clean and Crowley's is pushed to the side, the server approaches them again.

"What would you like to indulge in for dessert?" He asks, slightly lifting an eyebrow at _indulge_.

Aziraphale flushes again, starting to say, "I think we're ready for the bill, actually-" but Crowley interrupts him.

"Get a slice of cake, angel, go on."

Aziraphale nods, looking down at his hands. "The chocolate one?" Crowley confirms, and Aziraphale nods again, still staring at the table, very aware of how close the server is standing to him, desperately fighting down arousal.

"One slice of chocolate mousse and two coffees, then," Crowley says to the server, just a _hint_ of an underlying challenge in his voice.

The server says, "Of course, sir," and saunters away again.

Aziraphale looks up at Crowley, surprised that the demon hadn't jumped at the opportunity to leave. Crowley only smiles and tightens his fingertips on Aziraphale's arm for a moment affectionately.

The server returns with the cake and coffee a moment later, setting the decadent slice in front of Aziraphale, murmuring, "Looks delicious," and Aziraphale is _entirely _too flustered to respond. The server smiles again, _almost_ a smirk, and walks away.

Aziraphale takes the first bite and makes a quiet noise of pleasure. Crowley watches him eat the cake intently, dropping his hand from his arm to rest on Aziraphale's thigh under the table, warm and heavy with promise, his fingertips curling to press into his trouser seam on his inner thigh.

Aziraphale feels his Effort very much _paying attention_ to the touch, and he squirms in his seat, wishing he could adjust himself in his trousers without anyone noticing. His face is _very_ warm and his breathing is starting to become more audible. Crowley doesn't get (openly) possessive often, and Aziraphale has always found it particularly arousing. Crowley's aura is simply _radiating_ jealous desire now, and Aziraphale wants to happily drown in it.

Crowley is the attractive one between the two, and Aziraphale has often seen people look at him with desire. It has never bothered him, not after all they have been through together. It helps that Crowley never notices that it's happening.

Surely Crowley realizes that there is no contest here, Aziraphale thinks. Surely he's not _actually_ jealous?

When the bill comes, Crowley slaps down his fancy black credit card into the checkbook and hands it to the server without speaking, an overly friendly smile stretched across his face. For the first time, the server looks at Crowley directly and freezes uncertainly for a second. It's not often that one has to stare down the Serpent of Eden when toeing the line into his territory. The server keeps his distance from Aziraphale when he returns with the receipt, thanking them politely, quickly disappearing.

Crowley is unusually quiet during the drive back to the bookshop.

"Are you upset, dear? You're awfully quiet," Aziraphale asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, still flustered from all the attention.

"I'm not upset with you, angel." Crowley's tone is tight, but he rests his hand on Aziraphale's thigh reassuringly and his smile is genuine.

Aziraphale doesn't quite believe him, though.

"Come in for a nightcap?" Aziraphale asks as they pull in front of the shop.

"All right," Crowley murmurs, but he still sounds as if his thoughts are far away.

As soon as they enter the shop and the locks click shut behind them, Crowley takes Aziraphale by the shoulders and pins him to the back of the door, their noses brushing together. A surge of unbridled arousal runs through Aziraphale and he's almost instantly hard. He loves it when Crowley gets like this, like he can't stand to wait to have his angel any longer.

"I don't like when people touch what's mine," Crowley growls as he places open mouthed kisses to Aziraphale's throat.

"I don't like when people even _look _at what's mine," He adds, pressing their lips together, biting Aziraphale's lower lip, causing a whimper. "And you are _mine_, aren't you, angel."

It's not really a question, but Aziraphale gasps a fervent _yes _anyway, his trousers already uncomfortably tight. Crowley's body presses against him from shoulders to knees, and Aziraphale's hips buck against him.

"Yours," Aziraphale breathes, achingly hard, eager to be devoured, feeling Crowley's cock pressing into his hip, wanting it, "Only yours."

Crowley snaps his fingers, and they are instantly transported upstairs to the bedroom. Aziraphale squeaks in surprise when Crowley pushes him roughly onto the bed, snapping again to fully remove the angel's clothes.

"Oh, my dear-" Aziraphale gasps, overwhelmed in the very best way, his cock dripping onto his stomach, painfully hard. Crowley is already on him, his tongue laving a nipple before his mouth saunters vaguely downwards, finally licking a wet stripe up the underside of Aziraphale's straining cock.

"This is mine," Crowley announces and his sucks tightly at the head, his hands holding Aziraphale's hips to the bed as he instinctively thrusts up for more.

"Yours," Aziraphale repeats around a moan. Crowley lifts his legs to press up against his chest, his tongue exploring every inch of Aziraphale's skin before lapping at his entrance. A keening whine escapes Aziraphale's throat as he dips it inside.

"Please, dearest, please," he cries, impatient for what he knows is coming next.

"You want me to fuck you?" Crowley asks, an entirely unnecessary question.

"Yes, love," Aziraphale whimpers. Crowley snaps again, stretching and slicking him in an instant. Usually Crowley insists (and Aziraphale prefers) to do this the human way, with his long teasing fingers, taking his time, making him wait, but Aziraphale has become so impatient that he's grateful for the miracle.

"This is mine, too," Crowley growls, sliding two long fingers inside him for just a moment, curling them just right. Crowley pulls his cock free of his trousers, not bothering to take them off (he's already used quite a few miracles today), and with one hard thrust he is buried entirely inside.

Aziraphale cries out, loud and wanton, and Crowley leans down to devour his mouth again, thrusting rough and fast, directly onto his prostate with practiced precision. The zipper of his sinfully tight jeans digs into Aziraphale's skin, the perfect bite of pain that sends shockwaves up his spine.

It only takes minutes before Aziraphale is coming untouched, arching upward, making a mess of them both.

Crowley runs a finger down his chest, through his come, bringing it to his lips and sucking on it lewdly. Aziraphale flushes beet red and makes a whining noise at the sight, his body trembling, his legs starting to ache.

Crowley pulls out and flips Aziraphale onto his stomach unceremoniously, pulling him up onto his knees, before sliding back inside, bracketing him with his body. His teeth find their favorite spot between Aziraphale's neck and shoulder and he growls as he comes inside his angel, pushing as deep as he can go, biting down hard, leaving a mark. Aziraphale arches into it, groaning as he is filled with liquid heat.

Crowley slowly pulls out, watching his come drip out of Aziraphale and down his plump white thighs.

Crowley gently helps Aziraphale adjust so they are laying on their sides. Crowley wraps his long limbs around Aziraphale tightly, holding him.

"Oh my," Aziraphale sighs contentedly, burrowing into the embrace. Crowley hums against his neck, pressing gentle kisses to his skin.

Something makes Aziraphale whisper, "You already know I only have eyes for you, dearest."

Crowley lifts onto his elbow to look down at him and Aziraphale turns his neck so they can make eye contact.

"I know," Crowley says.

There is a moment of silence.

"He was making you blush," Crowley adds, and Aziraphale can hear just a hint of uncertainty.

Aziraphale sighs a little. "Yes, I suppose he was. But... but he was attractive to me because he looked so much like you." Crowley's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Didn't you see?" Crowley shakes his head and Aziraphale goes on, "If his hair was red, you could have been brothers."

Crowley's mouth opens wordlessly. He hadn't noticed the resemblance, but thinking back, he thinks he sees it now. Aziraphale smiles dotingly and turns back around, pushing his back to Crowley's chest, holding Crowley's arm tighter around him, sighing happily.

"I should start flirting with _all_ of our servers if this is what happens," Aziraphale murmurs.

Crowley nuzzles into the back of the angel's neck at lets out a bit of a chuckle, not _entirely_ opposed to the idea.

"Mine," he whispers, and Aziraphale can hear his smile in his voice.

"Always yours, my love," Aziraphale whispers back, "Always yours."

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review plz


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